


Vernon's Little Boy

by Scarletembers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Harry Potter, Age Difference, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry Potter, Bruises, Butt Plugs, Cock Slut, Cock Slut Harry, Dubious Consent, Enemas, Extremely Underage, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Jobs, Ice Play, Little Spoon Harry, M/M, Manipulation, Naive Harry Potter, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Object Penetration, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Humiliation, Shameless Smut, Slash, Slut Harry, Spooning, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Underage Rape/Non-con, Verbal Humiliation, Whipping, Young Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26108773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarletembers/pseuds/Scarletembers
Summary: Depraved and porny. What starts as a punishment takes an (un)expected turn as Uncle Vernon decides to make Harry his little slut.
Relationships: Petunia Evans Dursley/Vernon Dursley, Vernon Dursley & Harry Potter, Vernon Dursley/Harry Potter
Comments: 36
Kudos: 511





	1. The disciplining

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: l don't support child abuse/rape/ any kind of violence or emotional manipulation. I know that my readers understand this and that ao3 is a safe space for all kinds of imagination, even those with the utmost depravity.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uncle Vernon decides to discipline young Harry.

“Don’t you realize it, Harry? Don’t you see it? You are a useless boy,” Aunt Petunia’s mouth opened wide, sneeringly, as the following words were hissed at the ten-year-old Harry with severe emphasis. “You are a good-for nothing, come to plague the living soul out of me! You are the most disgusting, most tiring, clumsy boy. We are going to throw you away to the street one day, you ungrateful little shit!” Petunia was towering over him with rage. The Chinese porcelain teapot that he had broken by accident lay on the floor in three pieces, and he was picking it up, shards of it already hurting his fingers as he was squinting through his teary eyes to pick it up from the floor.

Once he had cleaned it up and deposited the broken pieces on kitchen slab, Petunia stormed out the kitchen, at the sound of Vernon’s car. He had just walked into the house when she informed him of Harry’s crime, and even though Vernon knew it was a worthless one they got for free with something they purchased from the mall a few years back, he was not going to let it go without the necessary punishment.

He had a very hectic day at work, his boss was always at odds with him, he wasn’t going to let the useless boy add more to his worry. He asked Petunia to bring the boy to the living room and that he knew how to deal with brats. This sudden and stern decisiveness on her husband’s side aroused some feeling in the pit of her stomach. Despite his portly body and everything, Petunia still got intensely turned on by some of his characteristics, and loved her husband more for it.

She grabbed Harry by his hand, and led him out of the kitchen. Vernon was plopped up on the sofa, relaxed, removing the first button of his collar absent-mindedly. Harry could see that he had not changed from work, and hadn’t even removed his boots. He slid off his belt from his waist and gestured Harry to come closer. Dudley, who was sitting by the dining table, crunching on some Pringles, was beyond excited to see the show unfolding before him.

“I heard you broke my wife’s exported porcelain teapot, boy?” Vernon asked plainly.

“It was a…I didn’t mean to. Dudley pushed me… and I fell on…” Harry stammered, seeing Vernon clutch on the belt tightly when he mentioned Dudley’s name.

“Accusing my son, now, are you?” Vernon thundered at Harry, and turned to where Dudley was gobbling down a fistful of Pringles.

“Dudleykins, were you bothering with the boy? I’m sure if you wanted to play you could have done it with your better companions,” Vernon asked Dudley, his voice sweet with affection.

“Daddy, he is always in the way! I just wanted to get some sweets from the kitchen and he is always all over the place! I know he does it intentionally to vex me!” Dudley retorted, and stuck his tongue out at Harry’s hurt face as Vernon reverted his attention back to Harry.  
“We have housed you and fed you instead of throwing you out on the street just because of our kindness. Not only do you eat and take up space like a hog, but you offend my own son, and distress my kind wife,” Vernon’s face was getting redder by every second and he stressed his each word as he went on, “My wife and son are too kind to you that you think you can fool around with them. But I will see if I can discipline you, boy. Get on your all fours on the floor and pull your pants down. A good beating would do you some good.”

Uncle Vernon had spanked him over the knee before, but Harry was confounded as to why he was asking him to be on the floor. He was equally terrified and shy at having to jut out his buttocks for Uncle Vernon in front of the family. Petunia was looking with mild admiration at Vernon, and Dudley was licking his lips with anticipation. Seeing no other choice before him, Harry bend over and pulled down his trousers, revealing the pink checkered underwear. 

“Hurry boy, I have got other things to do after this,” Vernon snapped. Harry slid down his underwear, hurriedly to expose his bare, little, yet plump ass-cheeks.

Vernon lightly smacked Harry’s ass with his boot and snarled at him to move away from him to the middle of the floor. Harry’s underwear and trousers pulled down to just below his ass cheeks made it difficult for him crawl over the room and Vernon cracked his belt through the air dramatically as he stood up and bend over Harry.

“Hold your bum out, boy. After every beating, you would look up at your aunt and say, ‘I’m sorry for being clumsy, Aunt Petunia’. Do you understand?” Vernon shouted into Harry’s ear. Harry nodded, beads of perspiration now forming on his forehead. Vernon folded the belt into half, measuring his words, “Do you understand, boy?”

“Yes…yes, Uncle Vernon. Please...I will not break anything again… _please…”_

Harry knew Vernon was really mad at him—he had never before hit Harry with a belt. The first lash split through the air with a hiss and thumped on his buttocks with a hard, painful sting than he expected. It took a moment for Harry to absorb the full impact of the blow after the sound of the belt on his flesh rang clear across the room. He looked down and muffled his cry and could see through the corner of his eyes that Dudley was sitting with an entranced expression on his face, his Pringles forgotten in his hand, halfway to his mouth. Harry concentrated on not openly sobbing before the three of them. Petunia was standing by the corner, still looking at her husband with an increasing longing and a newfound spark and Harry remembered in time to say, “I’m sorry for being clumsy, Aunt Petunia”.

She smiled a mysterious smile, still looking at Vernon, and one lash after the other came in succession on his cheeks, and sometimes, Harry didn’t even get time to make his apology. He had started sobbing, despite all his resolution, after the third hard lash with the belt, and his hands and head had dropped to the floor, while he still managed to keep his ass pointed up with some remaining energy. Vernon couldn’t stop, he was unable to stop. He had never felt this ecstatic, his mind was calm, every beating given to the useless boy was making him feel more and more good about himself, and he knew his wife’s appreciation for him was growing by every second. The fact that the boy’s butt-cheeks were now taking on a purple hue and that some of the belt marks looked as if they would bleed was of no matter. Vernon felt he was the most powerful man on earth at the moment and that sufficed; he was playing at being God and felt like one too. Neither did he hear the boy’s wails or that even his son’s initial excitement had turned to a bit of worry for Harry’s life.

Finally, Petunia spoke, with a slavish timidity. “Vernon, dear, don’t you think it is enough for today? The boy is making so much noise. Think of the neighbors!”

Vernon ignored her and landed a few more thuds on the boy’s bare back before he threw away the belt.

“Yes, you are right. Get a hot bath ready for me, upstairs, Petunia. I’m quite tired. And boy, bring the pieces of the china to my room. I will see if I can fix up the mess you made with glue.”

Vernon walked to his room as Harry pulled up his pants over his aching buttocks and wiped away the tears with the back of his hand. His throat too was sore from crying continuously but he managed to walk to the kitchen. The pot was broken in two in the middle, and the sleek cylindrical stout had also separated from the pot. He took the three pieces and walked past Dudley. The latter’s usual humor was returned, now that Harry’s punishment was over and he tried to trip him over, but Harry managed to escape.

“Nice round butts you got, bitch!” Dudley mouthed, before he leaped up to his feet to run upstairs to play games in the new playstation his dad bought for him the day before.

As Harry entered Vernon’s room, the man asked him to lock the room. Harry hesitated but did as he was told as he didn't want to raise his uncle's temper again. Uncle Vernon was changing when he entered the room, and now only had his pants on, and was sitting on his king-sized bed, smugly. Harry noticed that his uncle's portly belly looked smooth but that his chest was really hairy and had very prominent, coffee-colored nipples.

“Keep the pieces on the table, Harry. Don’t worry, I’m not going to beat you again now. You have learnt your lesson, haven’t you?”

“Yes, Uncle Vernon,” Harry mumbled, his cheeks red with embarrassment and his eyes threatening to fill over again.

“Then, that’s good. I see the broken pieces are quite irredeemable," Vernon remarked after just taking a glance at them. "You have done a permanent damage here, haven’t you? Yet, the hurt you feel on your bum will go away after all, while you will be benefiting from the lesson I taught you today,” Vernon continued, laying his web slowing, “Bend over my knees, boy. Let me see if some cuts have been made. I wouldn’t want you to have permanent marks now, would I?”

Harry obediently pulled down his pants, and lay over the uncle’s lap, hoping against all odds that he won’t be beaten again. Vernon rubbed the little boy's ass-cheeks smoothly. His work was satisfactory; the purple hue on the boy’s cheeks and the few blood-red marks which cut his flesh and drew out a few drops of blood looked absolutely _delicious_.

“It doesn’t look so bad. Not so bad. I bet it will heal by tomorrow… But maybe I will put some balm on it. You won’t tell Petunia of this favour, will you, boy?”

“No, no, Uncle. Please do, it hurts so much already,” Harry spoke with gratitude. Vernon’s hand over the ass-cheeks were somewhat easing Harry’s pain.

Vernon took some balm and rubbed it over Harry’s buttocks. His hand moved at first, circular over both his purple cheeks before they edged to the centre, groping for the outside of the little hole. Harry wondered why Vernon was bothering with balming the outside of his shithole, but before he could realize it, his uncle slid in the tea-pouring part of the china teapot right up his asshole. The cylindrical stout had the width of two fingers and went in an inch inside his asshole without trouble.

“Uncle, what! Please, you told me my punishment was over!”

“Don’t move, boy! Ungrateful brats like you need to learn that everything comes at a _cost_. You damaged your aunt’s most cherished teapot and then demand my costly herbal balm after I punish you!”

“But you asked! I didn’t mean to…” Harry was utterly confused.

“You would have refused if you had accepted your punishment with dignity. If you had believed you deserved it.”

Vernon put more lube by the surface of the long porcelain shiny stout and pushed it further inside the boy. It went in without much difficulty and Harry felt a hot surge of an electric thrill as it slid past, caressing his prostate.

“Everything comes at a cost, boy. Even you should know that. The porcelain you broke, the balm you wanted rubbed on your butts, the clothes that you wear…I have to work hard to put a roof over your head and everything else you enjoy,” Vernon continued without much thought. He had been looking for an opportunity like this for long, he had never dared to hope that he would actually do it but the pleasure of hurting the boy today was too much, and he knew he wanted more.

He started moving the porcelain piece up and down the boy’s asshole slowly, looking at the way his small pinkish asshole stretched and moved to accommodate it. The boy moaned for a few seconds without realizing it, and it was more than Uncle Vernon could take. He unbuttoned his pants without the boy’s notice and grasped his aching member frantically. He moved his hand over his member slowly and carefully formed his words, “I am more like the only daddy figure you will ever have in your life, boy. And I take so much trouble for you, don’t I? Won’t you like to do something back for me...Harry? A little something to ease your uncle’s day?”

Harry looked up at him in expectation, with arching eyebrows.

“Yes…” Harry said uncertainly, not sure what his Uncle was driving at. Still, the porcelain was up his ass and it hurt a little.

“It would make me feel good if you would… _clean_ _it,”_ Vernon said, pulling the boy down to his knees. Harry looked at Vernon’s medium-sized cock, sticking out from the zip of his pants, oozing with precum by its tip. It looked so big to Harry, he realized with an envy that his weeny was too small. It was the first time that he saw an adult penis. He remembered that it had hurt when he tried to soap his weeny around the tip. He understood it must be even harder for Uncle Vernon to wash it properly, considering its size, and the portly belly hiding it from his own view.

Harry was eager to please—he had made up his mind that he would never again do something to be punished and humiliated by his uncle. He gingerly extended his tongue and licked Vernon’s cock, with long strokes, first taking care to lick off the bitter pre-cum hanging from the tip. His Uncle directed him by handling his head and after a few hesitant licks and a bit of pressure in the right direction, he had managed to have Harry’s throat nudged in by the enormity of more than half of his cock. Harry was gagging on it, tears again forming in his eyes as he was so out of breath. Vernon pulled back a bit, now caressing the boy’s hair and murmuring by the boy’s ear, “Easy now Harry. You are doing well, be a good boy now”.

Harry smiled up at him. He could see that his uncle was pleased with him now and he loved that Vernon was calling him by his name. "Open up, Harry. You have to clean it till the base," Vernon urged him. He tried to open up his mouth further and Vernon raised his hips to slowly push in further to accommodate the fullness of his cock inside the boy’s mouth. Vernon could feel the boy's throat clasping around his dick frantically for some air. He stated to move back and forth, occasionally choking the boy, occasionally groaning by himself. Harry felt the warmth of his Uncle’s cock inside him and as Vernon pushed in and out of his raven-haired little nephew’s mouth, he felt a powerful orgasm building upon him.

"Keep going, Harry. You don't want to disappoint your uncle, do you?" Vernon spoke softly he leaned over Harry back to squeeze the boy's round, hurt buttocks firmly. Harry squirmed but kept sucking his Uncle's shaft. Vernon moved the porcelain stout in and out Harry's butthole and Harry ached for more as its sleek surface rubbed past his prostate. Uncle Vernon finally climaxed with a groan. Hot wads of cum squirted out of his cock into Harry’s inviting mouth, and the boy in his confusion and eagerness to please, swallowed it without raising a complain. Vernon finally released his grip on Harry, pulled him close and removed the porcelain from his asshole. Then he took Harry up by his arms and put him down on his lap.

“You are a good boy, Harry. My good boy. You have pleased me well by cleaning it for me,” Vernon smiled kindly at him, in appreciation. Harry was overcome with gratitude and a happy feeling in his stomach. He had seen Vernon letting Dudley sit up on his lap, before his son became too big for him. He had also seen boys sitting on their fathers’ laps on television. He just never thought he would be able to do it ever. Vernon patted Harry’s back and Harry comfortably snuggled up against his fleshy body, not minding the terrible ache on his hurt buttocks on having to sit. He never thought he could ever be this intimate with Vernon.

“Thanks for punishing me today, Uncle. I believe I deserved it. I won’t ever be so clumsy!” Harry murmured in further hopes of reconciliation. He breathed in the musky scent of sweat wafting from his uncle’s chest.

“That’s my boy. Didn’t I say a beating will do you some good!”

“Yes, Uncle…”

Vernon snuggled him closer against his man-boobs.

“Only if you were as good as this everyday…” Vernon said, sighing, looking intently at Harry.

“I will be,” Harry exclaimed, “ I’ll be a good boy, Uncle!”.

“Then maybe I will come to like you, my boy,” Vernon chuckled, pecking a kiss on Harry’s lips and catching a waft of his cum on the boy’s mouth.


	2. The Little Spoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I just decided to make it into a series instead of one-shots, and to make it more deprived. I hope you enjoy this.

As he lay on his stomach, in the cupboard under the stairs that night, Harry could still feel his butt-cheeks throbbing painfully. His puckered butt-hole too was throbbing. Harry wondered why it felt good, despite the hurt, when his Uncle slid in the stout of the broken teapot deep inside him. He wondered if his Uncle would ever do something like that again. He snuggled against his rock-hard pillow and thought about Vernon. He wished Vernon would hold him now, and rub his cheeks lightly, he wished his uncle would put on more balm on his sore backside. He had been twisting and turning in the cupboard for the past one hour, and he was so used to sleeping on his back and the fact that he couldn’t do that without hurting didn’t help. There was silence all around, the Dursleys had slept and the boy wondered how he would get up early the next morning, at this rate. He suddenly remembered that ice could help with numbing the pain—he had seen Petunia putting some ice on Dudley’s fingers when he had grabbed a hot cakepan which she had just taken out of the oven. Harry got out of his suffocating space, and carefully tiptoed to the kitchen; he noticed while passing the living room that the light in Uncle Vernon’s room was still on. He wondered what his Uncle was still doing, he could see in the glow of the moonlight that the grandfather clock on the mantelpiece read past 1 am. He hurried to the fridge and withdrew the ice-tray from the freezer. He twisted out two hard cubes from the tray with some difficulty onto the palm of his hand, and depositing the tray back into the fridge, turned to go back to his cupboard—

“What are you nicking from the fridge, boy?”

Uncle Vernon was leaning on to the side of the kitchen door, his arms crossed against his chest, scrutinizing Harry with interest. Harry started and was clearly embarrassed at being caught in the act, he hid his hand slightly behind his back, and in his desperation to not be punished again that night, and acting on a sudden impulse, he slid in his fingers at the back of his trousers and dropped the ice-cubes inside his underwear—hoping that his uncle won’t see the sudden movement of his hand in the darkness of the kitchen.

“Nothing, Uncle. I was just checking... if I had put all that Aunt Petunia asked to me put in the fridge before she went to sleep,” the lie somehow came easily to Harry, yet his voice had a weird quiver. He didn’t know why he was lying to Vernon; his uncle had only, only a few hours before, held him in his hands, kissed him, and told him he was beginning to like him.

Vernon switched on the kitchen light, and considered him. “Why aren’t you asleep yet, Harry?”

“Umm…I couldn’t sleep, Uncle,” Harry answered seeing that Vernon didn’t look angry at him, and added with hesitation, “My back…it hurts”.

“That’s a price you had to pay for your clumsiness. It is meant to hurt,” Vernon said irritated, suddenly noticing something, “And I see that it was totally ineffective in teaching you obedience. Why is water dripping from your pants, boy? Are you pissing in your pants, you brat?”

Harry looked down and saw that the melted ice was leaking from his trousers. Harry’s face reddened up in shame and the boy stared at Vernon open-mouthed. Before he could say anything, Uncle Vernon grabbed him, and lifting him up, laid him on his back on the kitchen table. He then teared Harry’s pants down to reveal the almost finished two melting chucks of ice in his totally drenched underwear.

“I thought you said you didn’t take anything from the fridge, boy?” Vernon sounded exasperated rather than angry, “Why did you lie to me, Harry, that too only after a few hours of agreeing to be _my good boy_?”

“I’m sorry, Uncle! I didn’t mean to…I j—just …” Harry stammered, frantic that he should again be in his uncle’s bad books, that he will again be punished for doing something without meaning to.

“I guess a liar and a bastard like you can never be my good boy,” Vernon said slowly, with daggers in his voice, watching with mild curiosity the effect his words were having on the young boy. Harry was openly gaping at him in horror, then he closed his mouth and looked away in embarrassment, in shame, in submission.

“Please Uncle…please don’t say that!” Harry implored, his eyes, threatening to fill over again. It seemed as if the trails and tribulations of one day would never come to an end!

“Please punish me, Uncle! I want to be good…I want to be _your_ good boy!” Harry continued in desperation, without thinking, still unable to meet the man’s eyes.

Vernon smiled, with a faked sadness, looking down at the messy-haired, soppy boy lying before him on the table. He wanted to ravish him so badly, wanted to fuck him so bad that the boy would only be able to limp and crawl for days.

“Please, Uncle! Don’t be mad at me!” Harry begged, turning over hurriedly on his tummy to jut out his ass in obedience for the punishment. He wished his uncle would spank him now, and take him in his arms afterwards, instead of saying such hurtful things to him.

“Your ass is already swollen, boy. I’m not interested in spanking you. But I’m impressed by your asking for punishment,” Vernon continued, his cock getting rock-hard inside his night-pants, “That’s improvement, definitely. You should always ask for punishment when you know you deserve it. If you do that, I won’t be too hard on you, do you understand, boy?”

“Yes, Uncle. I deserve to be punished,” Harry mumbled, growing tensed.

Vernon extracted the ice-tray from the fridge, bolted the kitchen door, and wriggled out a cube. He ran the ice-cube over Harry’s ass, pressing it tightly against the purple hues on his ass. Harry shivered, and felt the pain easing into numbness, the coolness of the ice felt so good against his swollen rear.

“Of course, I will punish you for lying to me, boy. But not today.”

Harry almost moaned as Vernon put another ice-cube and ran it over his other cheek.

Vernon inched the cubes nearer to the center and started to move the ice-cubes against the surface of his nephew’s tight opening and as it melted over Harry’s asshole, Vernon slowly tried to slide his middle-finger into Harry’s hole.

“Owww!” Harry moaned in surprise, feeling the coldness of Vernon’s finger inside him.

“This hole belongs to me, do you understand, boy? I’m gonna train your asshole to pleasure me. If you will be my obedient little boy, you will learn to please your uncle so much,” Vernon said overcome with maddening lust.

“But…how will it…it is dirty, Uncle!” Harry replied, looking back at his Uncle, bewildered. He was clueless as to why his uncle was suddenly giving so much attention to his dirty shit-hole.

Vernon slithered in one of the half-melted ice-cubes, that he had been circling around the boy’s pink hole into him using his finger to push it down into the boy’s puckered tightness. Two more ice-cubes followed suit and Harry was growing uncomfortable with the iciness being thrust down to his inside.

“Spread your ass-cheeks, my boy. It’s not so bad, is it?”

“No, Uncle,” the boy mumbled, spreading his cheeks for his Uncle’s benefit. Vernon knocked out a few more, already half-melted ice cubes from the tray and pushed them, one after the other into the boy’s hole. Harry’s back was trembling slightly as he felt the ice cutting through his inside and melting down, threatening to squirt out.

“You have to hold it in, boy. And common, sit up, now,” Vernon commanded.

Harry turned and sat on his butt on the table and looked up at Vernon; if it hurt, he didn’t complain.

“Take off your clothes, Harry. Let me see how pretty my boy is!”

Harry blushed and eagerly took off his T-shirt, and the wet trousers and underwear which were pulled down just past his bum. He cupped his hands in front of his genitals—even though he was okay with his Uncle inspecting his butthole, he felt shy about his genitals—his Uncle’s were so big and appealing, and his, so small. Still he didn’t know why he was so conscious about the size difference.

Vernon grabbed his hands and moved it away from his genitals. Harry’s member was still small, maybe a tad smaller than the average size a 10-year old boy might be expected to have. Vernon could see that he was still not mature. He unzipped his pants and took his hard, veiny cock out for Harry to see, in comparison to his.

“Big ain't it?" Vernon chuckled in self-appreciation, "You know how you can make up to your uncle for lying before, don’t you?”

Harry looked puzzled for a moment before Vernon took his hand and stroked it against his aching member.

“Hold it tightly and move your fingers, boy,” Vernon said as he reached out for the boy’s miniscule nipples and grasped them tightly, twisting them between his fat fingers.

“Owww! Owww!” Harry gasped, feeling the sensitive skin of his nipples hurting within his Uncle’s ruthless fingers. He made a little fist with Vernon’s dick inside it to grip it tightly as is Uncle asked him to do, and moved his fist back and forth, carefully over his Uncle's length. He could feel the warmth of his cock and feel that he was doing well by the pleased expression spreading over his Uncle’s face. Vernon was heaving, euphoria coursing through him. Harry instinctively ducked down, eager to please his Uncle more, and to remedy the disappointment he has caused and took the shaft of his cock in his mouth. Vernon watched the raven-haired nymph eagerly tasting his precum with relish and taking in a considerable length of his cock with more ease than before _. The boy is learning incredibly fast_ , Vernon thought with satisfaction. He ran his hand through Harry's untidy hair and grabbed a chunk of it tightly.

With one hand, Vernon closed around Harry’s fingers around his cock firmly, and with the other he guided the boy’s head. He stated humping with more force against Harry’s mouth, as the little one gagged and struggled to hold still and be moved by his Uncle's rhythm. After he climaxed again for the second time that night, spurting again hot wads of cum into Harry’s mouth, he gathered Harry’s clothes in one hand, and lifted Harry in the other and carried him to his room. He let Harry squirt out the liquid in his guts in his bathroom toilet and laid him down in his queen-sized bed. And the tired boy slept soundly—spooned by his Uncle’s enormous body, his naked, sore ass pecking lightly against Vernon’s sleeping cock—for the first time in his life in a real bed. Vernon’s little boy smiled in his sleep, feeling his Uncle’s heavy, hairy arm around his body, and slept peacefully despite of the big man’s persistent snoring. When he woke up at his usual hour in the morning, Vernon enjoyed, once again, the delicate pleasures his nephew's oral cavity had to offer and the boy gulped down his Uncle’s cum with relish. He was beginning to get used to his Uncle's taste.

As Harry’s went about the day’s chores in the kitchen, helping his aunt around, he was acutely aware of the little butt-plug his uncle had inserted inside him before he left his room. It was a small-sized, steel butt-plug, with a little red jewel on its base. Vernon had told him it belonged to his Aunt and that now Harry had to wear it at all times, except only when he was sleeping and when he was using the pot. Vernon was biding his time and he wanted his little nymph’s hole to be prepared for him as soon as possible. As much as he loved his boy's inviting mouth, it wouldn’t suffice, he would havetake it into his hands to properly train Harry to be his personal cock slut. He had made up his mind that he would put the brat finally to some _use_.

The plug was hurting his insides a bit, but Harry was not totally let down—it reminded him of his Uncle constantly, he thought of it more like a gift, an ornament from his Uncle and he was definitely not going to let his aunt know that he owned this precious thing of hers now. _She has too many other ornaments and jewels to worry about this thing_ , Harry assured himself, as he went about his chores, slightly exhausted at only having slept a few hours the previous night.


	3. The Deflowering

Vernon was restless at work—he couldn’t believe that all that mouth-fucking he received from his nephew the previous night had done nothing to relinquish his desire. He had already found himself rubbing against his cock under his table thinking about Harry going about his day with that little butt plug he had given him inside him. Vernon was in fact surprised at his own libido and at the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about the boy, and that was the reason why he took the office telephone and dialed Petunia.

“Listen dear, why don’t you pack up some lunch and send it with the boy during my lunch break? The canteen it seems, is closed today,” Vernon mouthed into the phone, hoping that she wouldn’t find his sudden attentions on the boy suspicious.

“Vernon dear, the lunch is almost ready, I wouldn’t mind bringing it myself, it is just around the corner—”

“No,” Vernon interrupted her lightly, trying to hide the irritation out of his voice, “Don’t bother, Petunia, I don’t want to have you walk all the way in this hot sun. Just send the useless boy; he could also help me sort the old files, here, afterwards”.

…

Harry was thoroughly irked by noon—his initial enthusiasm had faded as the lube dried and the butt-plug, though small, was hurting his inside. He was stirring the stew and wondering if he should just take his plug out now and shove it inside before his Uncle would reach home in the evening when his aunt barged into the kitchen and asked him to carry lunch for Vernon. Harry’s heart rose up in anticipation—his initial thought was that he had done something wrong yet again, or that maybe his uncle regretted gifting him the plug and was going to take it back. It was not even as if he cared much for it, but somehow the thought hurt. Vernon’s office, _Grunnings_ , was hardly half a mile from his home, and as Harry walked, swaying the polythene cover with the lunchbox, Harry wondered if his uncle had any other reasons to have Harry bring it; after all, the man was so fond of the junk food he had from the café next to his workplace.

As Harry knocked at the office door which held the placard with his Uncle’s name, he suddenly felt embarrassed at the thought of his Uncle’s naked body that had curled beside his, the previous night.

“Come in,” Vernon’s gruff voice came from the office and the boy entered the room.

“Put the kettle on, boy,” Vernon said, without bothering to look up from the file open in front of him, “I would have some coffee after lunch. Make it strong”.

Vernon didn’t bother to chit-chat as he ate his lunch and Harry was feeling confused about his uncle’s indifference, as if nothing had happened between them the previous night. Not that Vernon had been anything but indifferent towards Harry his whole life, the boy felt something must have changed since the previous night; he thought he had somehow managed to please his uncle and that was why Vernon let him sleep in his bed and gifted him the jeweled butt-plug in the morning, but the man had barely glanced at him as he stood uncertainly by the kettle in the corner, waiting for the water to boil.

After Harry served Vernon his cup of coffee, and turned back to go stand in the corner not sure what to do with himself, Vernon looked up at him.

“You too have a cup, boy,” Vernon said, casually.

“What…I” Harry looked at his Uncle uncertainly, he was never allowed to have tea/coffee by any of the Durselys; the only time he had coffee before was when Mrs. Figgs offered him, after the time he had spent running all around the neighborhood for hours to find her cat which had went missing.

“For God’s sake have a cup if you want to. But make it fast, we are going out”.

…

It was a part of Vernon’s job as the sales representative that he had to travel around the city to meet with clients and to settle deals, so it was nothing unusual as he left his office after noon and drove Harry around to the South of London. The boy’s spirits were soaring as he sat on the front seat beside Vernon, after all, it wasn’t every day that he was taken for a ride around the city.

“Finally; it’s too hard to find this place sometimes,” Vernon said, turning his car around the driveway of a hotel after an hour’s ride. Vernon had known this place for a few years now. They never asked any questions or any forms of identification, and some kind of secrecy could be maintained about the stay. A friend had recommended this place to him years back, and he occasionally would make an agreement with a guardian to spend a few hours with a child prostitute of sorts. The whores were expensive and they were all claiming to be younger than they were, Vernon knew, the youngest whore he had was a boy who claimed to be thirteen but must at least have been sixteen. But he had seen guardians bringing up tender ones too, for the top priority clients who could afford them. Vernon felt a weird sense of pride as he led Harry across to the hotel lobby to book a room. The hotel receptionist gave a sideways look at Harry, slightly amused at the innocent way Harry was gaping at the huge glass chandelier hanging above the lobby before she gave the key to a room to Vernon without much ado.

Their room was on the eighth floor; It was a rather minimalistic room, except for the rich texture of the carpet and the plush bed on the middle of the room—the cheapest Vernon could have in the hotel, still it had cost him a fortune. Vernon closed the room and took his tie and belt off without any preamble. He went into the bathroom to fill the bathtub in some cold water.

“Take your clothes off, boy. It’s bath-time,” Vernon said emerging out of the bathroom, considering Harry, who was looking around the room slightly perplexed. Harry gaped for a moment before he started peeling his clothes off, but hesitated to remove his underwear.

“Come on, we haven’t got all day,” Vernon remarked irritated, “unless of course, if it is a taste of my belt that you want”.

Harry looked up and noticed that his Uncle was still holding on to his belt before he removed his underwear hurriedly.

“I won’t have you hesitating when I ask you to do something. Is that clear, boy?”

“Yes, Uncle,” Harry muttered, embarrassed.

Vernon removed his own clothes and got into the tub before he asked Harry to get in as well. The boy didn’t hesitate as his uncle pulled him in so that he was on his Uncle’s lap, his butt-plug still inside him, pressing against his uncle’s skin, his little legs curled inside the man’s hairy ones. Vernon ran his fat fingers across the boy’s body, pressing the bony body against his own. Harry could feel the arch of Vernon’s belly and his matted chest-hair on his back, and the boy’s head rested comfortably between his uncle’s man-boobs. The cold-frothy water and his Uncle’s soft flesh felt so good against his and Harry never imagined something like this could feel this great and closed his eyes in repose. Vernon’s fingers found the boy’s little member and the man smiled feeling its smallness, and squeezed it a bit roughly.

“Owww owww,” Harry purred, opening his eyes.

“Lie still, Harry,” Vernon murmured softly, as he moved his hand further down, to fondle the boy’s butt-cheeks. Vernon pressed his fingers spreading Harry’s arse before he grabbed the butt-plug and pulled it out. Harry gasped as it came out with a plop sound under the water, and Vernon slid two of his fingers in.

“Lean forward, Harry. I need to feel all the way in,” Vernon said, in a voice that would accept no objection.

Harry moaned unhappily as if to complain about having to abandon the comfortable position, but obeyed, nevertheless. Vernon stretched the boy’s arse further by squeezing his fingers inside and outside of Harry’s protesting hole, and considered—he had only decided in the morning that he would take time with the boy to stretch him out using different sized butt-plugs and all for a week or so, but he had run out of patience so fast. _So, what if it hurts him a bit in the beginning_ , Vernon thought, _He will get used to it._

After a few minutes of fingering Harry under the frothy water, Vernon decided he can take it no longer. He got out of the bathtub and pulled Harry up in the bridal style and carried him to the room, laying him on his back on to the plush, queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. Vernon grabbed a hotel-provided towel and rubbed the water off Harry’s skin, not noticing the blush on the boy’s face at being treated like a child. He shuffled Harry's unruly hair as he stuffed his erect cock onto the boy’s mouth and sighed dramatically at the instant surge of pleasure. Harry lay still on his back as Vernon mouth-fucked him, as his fingers again found the way again inside his opening, gagging when his uncle’s member hit the depth of his throat. As Harry braced himself for that familiar bitter taste of his Uncle’s release, Vernon withdrew himself and raised Harry’s legs, spreading them apart.

Vernon spread his cheeks, smearing a generous amount of lube and gently pressed his cock against Harry’s moistness.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked aghast; he remembered Vernon telling him the night before that he was going to teach Harry to pleasure him, but he never thought it would involve something like this.

“You are my good boy, aren’t you, Harry?” Vernon cooed in the boy’s ear, pulling Harry’s legs forward against his thighs, “We are going to do something the adults do all the time. You are not a child anymore now, are you?”

“No,” Harry replied, hesitantly. He was to turn eleven soon, Harry knew he was almost a grown up and not a little prick like Dudley, still he wasn’t sure whether he should be doing this.

“This will feel good too, in due time,” Vernon remarked, as he pressed himself against Harry.

Harry nodded, remembering the inexplicable surge of pleasure he had felt the previous night when his uncle had slid in the stout of the broken teapot inside him. _If the adults did it all the time, it can’t be bad,_ Harry thought.

Vernon pressed himself against his tightness, harder now, trying to squeeze himself in, as Harry’s sphincter muscles stretched around to accommodate the man’s tip. “Aww, oww, it hh—hurts, Uncle,” the boy whimpered, somewhat frantically, scared about what was happening.

“You need to relax now. It won’t hurt if you relax,” Vernon grunted as he leaned on to Harry’s torso, putting most of his weight over the little body, and kissed him full on the lips, drawing his tongue in to shut him up. Harry stilled instantly as he felt himself smothered by the big man; his little mouth being kissed so deeply in the way he had only seen in the movies. Vernon pushed in further but the boy’s cry was stifled in his throat. By the time Vernon had managed to push the half of his length in, he couldn’t believe how heavenly and maddening the boy’s tightness felt.

“Pl-please, Uncle, I can’t,” Harry said through a sudden burst of tears, feeling as if his arse were being impaled.

“Shhh…stop whining for once, boy. I told you to relax,” Vernon growled, raising Harry’s legs, “You are only making it difficult for you”.

Harry tried to relax as much as he could and think about something else but still it didn’t lessen the pain in any way. He was still uncomfortable and whimpering underneath Vernon, but he felt an inexplicable pleasure shoot through him when his uncle’s cock hit somewhere within him, and he moaned in spite of himself when that happened. Vernon pushed himself in and out holding the boy’s lean frame still by holding his neck by the side, and occasionally finding the boy’s prostate. Harry felt his own cock kind of feeling hot for some reason, but when he tried to touch himself, Vernon grabbed both of his hands and held them above his head.

“It is not a man’s cock, boy. Your little cocklette doesn’t have to be touched,” Vernon groaned, gauging the desperation in the boy’s face. Harry wanted to complain but he was too overwhelmed as his Uncle found his sweet spot again and he moaned clenching his arse around him.

Vernon had never experienced such pleasure, such power as he moved himself, mostly oblivious to his nephew’s pain and occasional spurts of pleasure, and climaxed with a deep grunt, spilling himself into Harry, slamming his cock one last time to feel it pulsating deep within the boy.

…

After Harry had cleaned himself, he was hoping that his Uncle wouldn’t have him wear the butt-plug as his inside was sorer than ever, but Vernon would have none of that, so Harry had to insert it back in with some lube.

“Now don’t look so sore. We need to go back,” Vernon said, his spirits dropping.

As the elevator stopped in the seventh floor to let some people out, Harry noticed a dark, tall man in a tuxedo emerging out of a room in that floor with a boy around his age. Harry saw a portly man who was standing outside the room grab the boy as he stepped outside, and the man in the tuxedo handing over something in an envelope to the other man before he noticed that the elevator was about to close and the handsome man rushed forward as someone who was getting out of the elevator held the door for him to enter. As the man entered the elevator his eyes met Harry’s and darted across his body, a sly smile forming on the tip of his lips which made Harry uncomfortable. There were only the three of them in the elevator now.

“A beautiful specimen of a boy you’ve got there,” he spoke in a deep voice, with an unmistakable French accent, looking at Vernon as he continued, “You must be his guardian, I suppose?”

“No, I am not his guardian,” Vernon huffed, taken aback.

Harry saw the man’s eyebrows furrow as he took in Vernon’s appearance from head to toe, before he recovered himself and jovially remarked, “Client then, I presume?”

Vernon cleared his throat and nodded slightly, looking away.

“I wonder if you might mind telling me the name of the guardian. Pardon my bluntness, if you will, I thought the hotel had the photos of all the available boys and contact numbers of their guardians in their archive, but I must definitely have overlooked this one’s.”

“The boy is not for sale, mister. And I’m not a pimp, for fuck’s sake,” Vernon said, his cheeks flashing a deep shade of red.

The man looked slightly startled at the response but calmly withdrew a card from the insides of his pocket. “I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t mean to offend you or to pry, of course, but please keep my card, in case you happen to change your mind.”

Vernon looked as if he was ready to burst but still, he didn’t dare to lash out—he could tell by the man’s appearance that he must be someone in a position of power, and he knew well enough that he didn’t want trouble with the kinds of rich crooks who visited this place, so he just accepted the man’s card.

Harry wondered what his Uncle meant by saying he was not on sale. Of course, he wasn’t like a cloth or something that people could buy. But the boy could still feel the stranger’s eyes creeping across his back as he walked outside the elevator with his Uncle when they had reached the ground floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure where I will go with the dark French man. So either I will omit him in the coming chapters, or I will switch him for Vernon's role as Harry's defiler. Anyways, let me know what you think in the comments.  
> 


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